The Maison Des Lunes
by Tu Mama
Summary: Suppose the Beast never gave Belle the mirror. She could never prove her father wasn’t crazy. What will happen when Maurice is taken to the Asylum, Maison Des Lunes and how will Belle get him back home safe?
1. Chapter 1

"Never!" Belle yelled pulling her body away from Gaston. He had bribed her to marry him in the respect of saving her father. She felt her shoulders being directed towards the monster before her. Her lips felt the pressure of Gaston's against her own and she flinched on reflex, slapping his face. Gaston's hand flew up in a rush to retaliate but decided otherwise.

"Fine! Have it your way," he said storming past her. "Take the old man away!" Monsieur D'Arque nodded, a vulgar look on his face, and tore Maurice towards him.

"Let go of me!" Maurice hollered struggling for freedom. "Belle!" Belle sank to her knees at her father's cries for help. "Belle!"

"I'm sorry Papa," Belle whimpered covering her face unable to look at her father being thrown into the loony cart. Tears made splotches of black on the dirt road before her as two feet appeared in her view. She looked up to see the demented face of Monsieur D'Arque.

"Fear not Belle. We'll take _good_ care of your– ahem– father," his mouth twisted into a brainsick grin, one eye brow arched as his finger tips pressed delicately together. He turned on his heels, kicking up dirt, his cape flowing behind him. All the while you could hear the cries of Maurice in his desperate attempts for rescue.

Monsieur D'Arque pushed himself up into the driver's seat of the cart and jolted the horses into motion. It was a three minute ride to the asylum by horse and D'Arque couldn't be more pleased for a new client.

Maurice struggled to hold back tears as the cart picked up speed. He huddled up in the corner of the box and awaited his new prison. He had heard stories about The Maison Des Lunes and none of them were cheerful. He wasn't crazy and he would have to endure the sick nature of Monsieur D'Arque nonetheless. His Heart almost stopped when the cart descended in speed.

"Belle," Maurice said softly longing for his daughter. He buried his head in his arms and let the tears fall from his eyes. He heard voices from the outside of the carriage and strained to listen.

"We have a new arrival Achille," Maurice heard the voice of Monsieur D'Arque explain.

"Yes, sir," said the voice of a very hammered soul. Maurice's head jerked up from his arms as the doors were opened. The voice of Achille matched well with his appearance. Thinner than bone, he stood clad in raggish clothing hanging from his body in flaps. His black hair was sheen-less and matted curtaining his hollowed cheeks. Maurice almost willingly let himself be dragged from his mobile prison. He was forced to his knees as he felt an extra pair of hands clamp irons around his wrists. Being too discouraged his face remained on the ground at the extra touch.

"Come on Gervais," Achille said hulling Maurice to his feet. Maurice looked around at the one called Gervais and saw a man larger than an ox with blonde shaggy hair. He easily guided Maurice, a small man, up the stairs and into the asylum. The inside was worse than any rumor he had encountered. It was large and grey with a cold lonely feel to it. In the distance a chilling shriek could be heard but other than that, forced silence. Silence with the will to obey. Maurice was lead down a hall and into a room with chains on a bed and on the wall. There was a small wooden desk in the far corner with a tattered chair to match. He was forced to his knees again only this time it was on hard stone. The old man winced at the contact. His head was pressed to the floor as well so that his back formed a bridge over his knees.

"Hang in there Maurice," Gervais said reassuringly unlocking the cuffs around his wrists. His voice was deep and comforting with a thick French accent and Maurice couldn't help but relax a little until D'Arque entered the room to everyone's surprise.

"Gervais!" D'Arque said sharply. "How many times must I prompt your memory about speaking with new inmates?" The shuffle of D'Arque's movement was apparent at the whimper of Gervais.

"(1)Je suis maître désolé," Gervais said looking down at the ground in fear. D'Arque had to be about three feet shorter than Gervais and yet the larger man moved with a tremor.

"Speak English, you fool! How do you plan to learn English if you don't speak it regularly?" D'Arque snapped walking briskly past him. "You will wait for me in _the office_. Is that understood?" D'Arque's finger tips were once again touching delicately as his mind hatched disturbed plans.

"(2)Oui maître," Gervais said turning slowly. D'Arque accelerated towards Gervais and smacked him across the face.

"Since you seem to be immune to instruction in English I will pound it into in French! (3)Vous ne parlerez jamais anglais–" He hit Gervais with a riding crop that appeared out of generally no where. Most likely hidden under his cape (which he hadn't removed yet). "(4)En ma présence!_" Whack! _"(5)Si vous!" _Whack!_ "(6)j'assurerai vous êtes punis!" _Whack!_ "(7)Me comprenez-vous maintenant, Gervais?"

Maurice risked a glance from his uncomfortable position and saw Gervais crouched down on his knee his shirt ripped from the force of the blows. Maurice looked away in quaking fear at what may happen to him after Monsieur D'Arque was finished with his current victim.

"Do you understand me now? Or do you need more _explaining_?"

"No, Master D'Arque," Gervais said terror in his voice. At that he hurriedly shut the door and was gone. Maurice listened for a click of a lock but none was heard. He swallowed hard and watched D'Arque's feet move in front of him. Clammy hands grasped his chin and forced his gaze up. Maurice looked into the face of Leandre D'Arque and could barely maintain calmness before he fluttered his eyes closed in insecurity. D'Arque gave a laugh and threw Maurice's face down.

"Yes, Maurice, you'll be very happy here," he said clasping his hands behind his back. "But now we ought to get down to business," He moved to the small desk on the far side of the room and took out a clip board and a quill. He dipped the writing device in an ink well and poised to write. "So Maurice, tell me. When did you start having these delusions?"

Maurice had already been asked this question and was humiliated. He would remain silent. Better to keep his dignity than sur come to the mad man before him.

"I asked you a question!" D'Arque said through clenched teeth roughly grabbing Maurice's face again. He lowered his own gaze to meet Maurice's and eerily spoke. "I'm going to cut to the main point with you Maurice," he breathed his face close to Maurice's. His breath smelled of must and alcohol with a feel like steam; warm and moist to the touch. "There is no cure for a broken mind, _a dangerous mind_. You'll be here for quite some time and you best make an effort to cooperate. It will make your stay a lot more—_ pleasant_. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Maurice?" Maurice swallowed and nodded helplessly. "Good man." D'Arque said throwing his face down again and walking back over to his desk.

Maurice glared at the floor in defeat and felt the tears well up again. He needed Belle; to be with her. It wasn't right for a father to be parted from his daughter for so long. The tears ran down his nose and dropped on the floor. Maurice tried to stay quiet in fear of D'Arque but it didn't prevail.

"Ah, you're weeping," D'Arque said rising from his chair an excited look on his face. His finger tips went to his cloak and undid the clasp letting it tumble down around him. His finger tips found each other again as he slowly walked to Maurice. "Why do you weep Maurice?" He asked. "Speak!" Maurice sniffed and took in a shaky breath.

"My daughter, Monsieur," he said sadly unable to meet the gaze of D'Arque.

"What of your daughter?"

"I'll never see her again," he wept. "It isn't right for her to continue to grow without a father."

"She is of age , Maurice. She is— No longer your concern," D'Arque said mystically letting it down hard that Belle didn't, in fact, need her father.

"I am not crazy!" Maurice hollered out of no where (more to himself than anything) jumping to his feet in a speed that didn't seem fit for an old man. D'Arque laughed and turned away from Maurice.

"Of course you're not," D'Arque said patronizingly. "However I advise you to take a seat before I see it necessary to get physical."

"I will not take my seat for I am not insane!"

"Maurice– _Maurice_ the first step to recovery is to admit your _problem_. My job is to locate the problem. Denying yourself will get you no further in your recovery."

"Your job? Your job?! Do you know what people say about _your_ job?! You're feared by everyone! No! Looked down upon by everyone! There isn't one person in this town that doesn't know that you have no clue as to what you're doing! You think it's a secret that you're a sadistic mad man? Well it isn't you— _Monster_! Everyone knows that half the people you bring in here aren't crazy. That you just drive them that way," Maurice was frantic now. His breath was coming in short and sweat had formed on his forehead. He could feel the perspiration drenching his underarms as he swallowed hard and pointed his eyes at the floor in anticipation as what was to happen. D'Arque had stood back, his finger tips touching, as if he had heard this monologue over one thousand times.

"Since you are new around here, Maurice, I will cut you a break. Rest assure, never let that happen again. The next time I am insulted like that you will beg for forgiveness," D'Arque said silkily. Maurice couldn't believe this. He was really in the Maison Des Lunes. He was committed and he wasn't getting out until his 'treatment' was complete. . .

Maurice darted for the door, which he observed before was not locked, and turned the knob. It wound around and then the door flew open. He ran out and turned right towards the exit. There were many bleak people that he passed that seemed too dead to do anything about his escape. Most likely inmates themselves. As he saw the door that lead to the outside exit a lanky young man appeared out of the left hallway. Then he heard the sound of D'Arque's voice.

"(8)L'arrêter Eloi! Le saisir!" D'Arque shouted running after Maurice. The lanky man called Eloi stepped behind Maurice seconds after he had tried the door and found it to be locked. The man's grasp was iron and claw like. Maurice could feel the nails of the man running through the fabric in his shirt. D'Arque approached the two in a short breathed manner. " He was trying for the exit," D'Arque breathed leaning on his knees for support.

"Ah," Eloi said looking down at Maurice, his grip still on the old man.

"What were you thinking?" D'Arque asked grabbing the scruff of Maurice's shirt and shaking him violently. Eloi had stepped back and had grasped his hands in front of his body watching Maurice being bullied by the asylum owner. "You're more than I can bear!" He spat throwing Maurice to the floor. D'Arque straightened up and stared at Eloi. "Allow me to introduce to you, my son, Eloi D'Arque," He gestured his son forward at his introduction. Eloi came forward into the light at his father's bidding and Maurice saw they were very alike in appearance.

Both were tall and thin with the same identical, gnarled-like hands. Their noses were both long and pointed with sharp, hollowed cheeks that gave them the look of being the walking dead. The clothes that Eloi was sporting was a slender wine-red suit with golden clasps and faded black boots. His colored garments looked indubitably elaborate next to the black cloth of his father.

"My son assists me in numerous treatment plans and has proven quite useful in his seven-teen years of life. I'm glad you two got to meet so quickly into your stay here Maurice," D'Arque said glaring daggers at the old man. He was angry that Maurice had made an attempt to escape. He had made a fool of his new tyrant and he would face the coincidences.

"Would I have the pleasure of meeting said son's beloved mother?" Maurice asked darkly still having his seat on the floor. Eloi looked at his father for a response.

"Eloi?"

"Yes, father?" He asked almost as if he was eggar to do his father's will.

"You will go fetch your mother. Then you will bring her back here, is that understood?" D'Arque asked not taking his eyes off of Maurice.

"Yes, father," Eloi said as he swooped in the opposite direction walking in the same stiff yet jittery manner his father did. D'Arque's gaze had switched from Maurice to his retreating son. After he was fully departed D'Arque fell back to Maurice. He picked the man up and slammed him against the door.

"If you ever pull a stunt like that again I will see to it that you are beaten on the spot! Do you understand me? On the spot! I will not be made a fool of in my own sanctuary! Especially by a fool with delusions of a ten foot monster!" D'Arque said dangerously pressing Maurice's body against the door with more and more pressure as he spoke. Maurice was now wincing in pain and working for breath. D'Arque let him fall and Maurice crumbled to a ball at his feet. " You will learn Maurice," he said wiping a small speck of saliva off the corner of his own lip.

"Father?" Eloi said to announce his presence. Eloi was accompanied, indeed, by a woman. She had blonde hair that was messily thrown up in a loop. Her emerald dress limped around her small frame in wilting beauty. Her face was done up in make-up to hide the scars and lack of color. However her eyes were full of emptiness. As if she had been dead for a long time.

"Ah, Frederique," D'Arque said holding out his hand. Frederique took his hand as if trained to do so. "This is my wife, Frederique."

"Pleased to meet you," Frederique said monotonously holding out her hand to Maurice without really looking at him. Maurice stood up off the ground and grasped the girl's frail hand; cold as ice.

"This is my latest patient, Maurice. He should be with us for some time," D'Arque said grinning nastily at Maurice. The look alone made Maurice want to crumple to the floor in defeat. However his legs remained posted to the ground. "Eloi take your mother back to her room," he then turned to his wife. "I will meet you in my bedchamber," he said fingering her chin and planting a lingering kiss on her lips. He wasn't supposed to see, but Maurice caught a glimpse of D'Arque fingering his wife in between her legs as he kissed her seeming harmlessly. Maurice looked away and jutted his head back to remove the hair from his eyes. D'Arque watched as his son lead his wife away.

"You will follow me," D'Arque said crooking a finger at Maurice. Maurice slowly began to trudge forward until D'Arque was behind him, guiding him through the asylum. "This is your new home, Maurice," D'Arque announced as he stopped at a room with the scripture AXC on it.

Maurice was shoved inside followed closely by D'Arque. The man before him was so frightening Maurice backed up with every step D'Arque took closer to him until he was sitting on a bed. D'Arque went past the bed and to a small cabinet. He took a mouth cover from it and an amber bottle. He poured some liquid into the cover and then came to Maurice.

"Now, this won't hurt you a bit my good man," D'Arque said rounding on Maurice. By some unknown power D'Arque had placed the cover over his prisoner's mouth and Maurice was taking deep breaths from the fumes being admitted from the liquid.

Maurice's limbs began to feel heavy and his eyes began to flutter closed. He was barely aware of D'Arque taking the mask off him and begin fondling his arms. He felt tight bounds being wound and clamped around his wrists and ankles but that liquid was working on him and he couldn't move a muscle.

"There, now. You'll not be going anywhere tonight," D'Arque said proudly looking at the tightly strapped inmate before him. Maurice opened his eyes to see everything in a blur. He heard the door open then a familiar voice ring out.

"Papa!" Belle shouted running to her helpless father. D'Arque flung an arm out and stayed her travel. "Let go of me– Papa!" She yelled fighting to get past the insane man. "What have you done to him?!" Belled shrieked looking as Maurice's eyes bloomed shut and the color in his skin visibly drain.

"He had to be sedated for his own safety, " D'Arque said, a small cackle in his throat. As Monsieur D'Arque talked Belle fought past him and was kneeling at her father's side.

"Papa, it's me. It's Belle. Wake-up Papa, its Belle," She said in a desperate attempt to wake him up. All Maurice could muster was a tilt of his head. Belle buried her head in her father's strapped hand and bawled. D'Arque peered at her as if she were inhuman. "Why did you sedate him? You know he's not crazy!" Belle yelled staring death at Monsieur D'Arque.

"He made an escape attempt and he _is_ unsafe for public interaction. Your father is delusional," D'Arque said his fingertips coming together in demented glee.

"That's a lie!" Belle said standing. "I can prove my father's not hallucinating!— And I will!" Belle turned back to her father and kissed his forehead. "I'll come back for you, papa," she whispered. She gave her father one last look and ran out of the room. She would bring the beast down here herself if she had to. And she would have to. . .

* * *

**Foot Notes:**

1. I'm sorry master

2. Yes master

3. You will never speak English

4. In my presence!

5. If you do

6. I will ensure you are punished!

7. Do you understand Gervais?

8. Stop him Eloi! Grab him!

**A/N:** This is my first B&B fic so I'm hoping everyone likes it. You know the drill. Click on the purple button and tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N:**

**Thankies for the reviews. Here is when the plot starts to unfold**

* * *

The beast looked out the brick rimmed window at the white snow below. Two birds flew in unison past the window chirping cheerfully at the rising of the sun. Although the birds were soft with happiness the beast's hearts was heavy. The previous night he had done the easiest and hardest thing in his entire life. He had let Belle, the love of his life, go free in the respect of saving her father. She was probably sitting blissfully by a fire with her father close by all thoughts of the beast driven out. Maybe it was better that way. 

Over whelmed by his emotions, the beast grasped the mirror on his table and threw it at the wall sinking to the floor in despair. He was tired, so very tired. If he couldn't be with her he didn't want to see her. It would be to painful. The only thing that the ex-prince had to look forward to was death itself. He grunted hopelessly as he pushed his body up, his cape draping around him. The Beast walked solemnly to the balcony outside his room and let out a sigh. His breath clung in the cold air; dangled like smoke from a natural fire.

There was a knock on the door to his prison with the entrance of the candle stick, Lumiere. He walked toward his sulking charge with the will to comfort. Although Lumiere knew the chances of the spell getting broken were slim he offered words of consolation.

"Master, it will be alright— There will be another girl. . . We will be human again by—"

"Lumiere," The Beast said softly not even glancing at his servant. "Its over." The Beast walked to the opposite side of the balcony and peered down again. The sun had come out over the trees but there were visible clouds on the horizon signifying a gloomy day. His eyes wondered the terrain until they rested on a moving object coming to meet the door. "Lumiere!" The Beast said excitedly. "It's her! It's Belle! She's returned!" He exclaimed running for the door to the corridor. Lumiere galloped to the window and looked down. It was true! She had returned.

"Mrs. Potts she has returned!" Lumiere shouted running in the direction of the kitchen.

The Beast lunged down the stairs effecting in large scratches on the marble floor. He ran for the door and burst through it as if it were tissue paper. It just wasn't possible! It was her!

"Belle!" He roared coming at her from the castle. When Belle saw him frisking towards her she dismounted her horse and met him in an embrace. "Belle, you came back," he said softly running his paw through her hair.

"Oh, Beast the most terrible thing has happened," she sobbed grasping at his fur.

"What?" The Beast asked holding her. "What's happened?" Thunder had sounded in the distance as the two had their conversation.

"They took him," Belle said as if The Beast was educated in the night's events.

"Who did they take Belle?" The beast asked very understanding of the girl's fragile condition.

"They took my father to the asylum," She said in a defeated tone. "He told them of you and they thought he was crazy. They locked him up, Beast and— That awful man— And that boorish! You must help me!" Belle sobbed starting to feel light headed from all the high frequency emotions.

"What could I do?" The Beast scoffed glaring at the snow behind Belle.

"You could come with me into town," said Belle pulling away from the beast just in time to see the shock in his eyes. "That way we could prove that my father's not crazy!"

"I– I can't," The Beast said backing away. "It isn't possible."

"Why not? You're the only one who can help me, please!" She begged tears falling from her eyes. "I love my father so much. Won't you please help me?"

"I'll— Yes," he said grasping Belle's hands.

"Oh, you will? Thank you Beast, thank you!" She said bringing herself closer to him. "We should go now," she urged going back to her horse.

"Right," The Beast said hesitantly. Belle mounted the horse and the beast ran beside her. The two were going fast and Belle was determined to free her father.

When they got into town the sky was black with clouds and the rain looked ever close to coming. The two were halted in town looking for signs of people. It seemed that fate was set on getting Maurice free for Belle saw the sight of Gaston walking through the snow.

"Gaston!" She yelled galloping toward him on her horse. She dismounted and ran the rest of the way to Gaston. There was a look of sheer terror on his face for the Beast was close to follow.

"What is that thing?" Gaston gasped in fear preparing to place Belle behind him in her defense.

"This is the Beast my father spoke of," She said urgently ushering the beast forward. "My father's not crazy! He was telling the truth!"

Gaston looked at the beast with fear in his eyes until a thought operated into his mind. His eyes went from scared to maniacal as Belle explained how gentle the beast was and how he would never hurt a soul. Gaston, however, wasn't listening to Belle but more observing her. She had feelings for this monster! He could use this to his advantage.

"So, you want me to discharge your father from the asylum is that it? Because you have proof that he's not crazy? Because you have proof of this _beast_?" Gaston spat glaring at the beast.

"Yes, Gaston," Belle said getting very hopeful that she would have her father in her arms very soon. Yet to her dismay Gaston grabbed Belle by the arm and pressed her back against his front pulling a knife on her throat. The Beast's eyes inflated into huge orbs of black as he took a giant forceful step forward.

"Take one more step and I'll cut her throat. The offer still stands Belle," Gaston spat glaring from Belle to the beast. "I'll get your father from the asylum if you marry me— And _you_! You go back to the hills and remain a figment of Maurice's imagination!" The Beast moved forward in an angry manner at this as Gaston pressed his knife harder to Belle's throat. "Move one more step and I'll do it. Now Go!"

The Beast looked as if he would make another forward approach but reclined back. Belle looked so helpless in that man's hands, she looked so scared. He gave Belle a lingering look and turned to run into the forest, (seemingly) never to return. Belle covered her mouth with one hand as Gaston released his grip letting her sink to the ground

"How could you?" Belle croaked softly gasping for breath to keep the tears at bay.

"The only way you're ever going to get _your father_ out of The Maison Des Lunes is to marry me. Otherwise he'll remain there for ever. Visiting hours are on sundays, though," Gaston said with a laugh as he turned away. " You know where to find me."

Belle covered her face with her hands and cried. What else could she do? There was nothing. She would either never see her father again and be miserable. Or Marry Gaston and be miserable. Either way she would lose. And with the beast so far away it almost seemed hopeless.

D'Arque's eyes opened to the darkness of his own chamber. The clock standing near by read ten in the morning. He sat up eerily as an android would; without effort or inclination. He looked down beside him at his slumbering wife. He didn't see her beauty or her soul. Just a slave to his will. That was her life. He tore the blankets off his body and scanned the room for his earlier discarded clothes. He spotted his pants and lapsed across the room with a vacant expression. He slowly pulled his pants on and then walked back to the bed.

"Wake up," D'Arque hissed at his wife shaking her form roughly.

"What's wrong?" Frederique asked groggily sitting up and instantly being grasped by fear at the face of her husband. The face of D'Arque looked angry at the question but he seemed to have let it pass for he turned from her and sat at the end of the bed. The man was so thin and gnarled that there were no wrinkles on his bare stomach as he sat slouched. There was an awkward silence until Frederique over came her temporary startle and approached her husband from behind.

"_I don't love him,"_ she thought as she wrapped her bare arms around his body and kissed his neck. She remembered how she got dragged into the marriage she hated so much. . .

The D'Arque family had been in the asylum business for a long time. In fact Leandre D'Arque's great great grandfather had opened the asylum, Maison Des Lunes. Frederique remembered the first time she had laid eyes on her husband. She was six years old.

Frederique was six years old and playing in the park, a quarter mile from her father's home. She had been there all day with her father as he promised her one day a week to do. Her mother had just sewn her a new doll and she had called her Marion. The Doll had a stitched face and a pink dress with yellow flowers on its pockets. Its hair was sewn up in yellow locks that bounced around in glee. She spun with the doll's hands in her own making everything a blur to Frederique accept for Marion. She was laughing and screaming until she lost her balance and fell back on the green grass. Her father, who had been watching her play, laughed heartedly as he made his way to his daughter and lifted her off the ground.

"Let's go and see mama. She's probably awfully lonesome at home," He said carrying her toward home. Frederique laughed and snuggled her head into the crook of her father's neck. The ride on her father's back to her home was a short one. Her body bounced in rhythm with her father's step slowly rocking her into a drowsy state. Soon sleep did take her as her father pressed onward.

"Jourdain Badeau," A grimy voice came from the porch.

"Monsieur D'Arque," Jourdain said placing his daughter on the ground and taking her hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He lied.

"Your wife, has she been quite well?" Said D'Arque.

"Yes, sir. I believe she has," he answered confusion in his voice. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"Oh, well I had a new arrival not too long ago. My workers say it was the wife of Jourdain Badeau."

"That's not possible!" Jourdain hollered running for the house. "Mireio!" He hollered as he ran. However D'Arque caught him by the arm. "What are you doing?"

"I have already inspected the house and it is quite empty. I searched for anything that could have lead to her condition," The man said eerily a smile playing on his mouth.

"What is her condition?"Asked Jourdain. He was mad at the monster before him. How could he be taking this so lightly. This was his wife at stake! His sweet, sweet Mireio,

"Now there is no need for raised voi–"

"What is her condition!?" Yelled Frederique's father.

"Attempted suicide," D'Arque answered the smile plain on his lips. "Its quite common in depressed women and young girls. Tell me Jourdain is she hard to control? Has she talked at all about her obvious unhappiness?"

"Is she alive?" Jourdain asked ignoring the question lain before him.

"Yes, she is quite well— now. However she has been admitted into the asylum for indiscreet insanity."

"My wife is not insane nor depressed! You lie about her suicide!" Jourdain yelled taking D'Arque by the scruff of the neck.

"Papa," Frederique whined as she began to cry.

"I assure you, _sir_, your wife is quite unstable. I can show you to her if it will quench you," D'Arque said mysteriously pointing to the asylum in the distance. Jourdain looked in the direction of the asylum and nodded.

"Take me to her," He said defeated. He took Frederique by the hand as D'Arque lead them both to the asylum. The way was scary and bleak. Not like any other part of the town Frederique had treaded on. The very trees seemed weaker in this area than any where else. It was so very dark.

"After you monsieur," D'Arque said opening one of the large doors to the asylum. Jourdain and his daughter walked into the Maison Des Lunes with fear in their hearts. Jourdain's fear was for his wife and Frederique for the asylum was eery, cold and dark.

"Leandre!" D'Arque called out to a person unknown to the two visitors. Footsteps were heard in the distance and a child no more than twelve came into view. He was wearing all black making his already skinny body appear almost invisible. His face was thin and pallid, as though he had never left his home. "This is my son, Leandre. He will keep your daughter company whilst I show you to your wife. The scene would not be one for children's eyes," D'Arque's eyes darted around to all the people present as if all the people in one area at once unnerved him.

"Papa will be right back lovely," Jourdain said following D'Arque through two doors and into a large corridor.

Frederique sniffed her nose as tears leaked from her eyes. She was scared and now her papa had left her with this strange boy.

"There's nothing to cry about," Leandre said walking forward to Frederique. " My father is a talented healer," he lied clasping his hands behind his back as if hiding something.

"Is she— Is she going to be alright?" Frederique asked looking up at Leandre. The boy looked down at the ground as he slowly walked towards the weeping girl. He placed one thin hand on her shoulder and sniffed back his sinuses.

"Its impossible to tell for sure," Leandre said still looking towards the ground in fake consolation. "I suspect she'll come out of it just fine."

"I don't want anything to happen to my mama," she said looking in the direction of the corridor that Monsieur D'Arque had lead her father down. What was going on in the hall was quite different from the event outside.

Monsieur D'Arque lead Jourdain down the way to a door with an ACX imprinted on it. He drew forth a ring of keys. The ring had an assortment of keys on it with a variety of colors. There were silver keys, gold keys; basically any color for a key you could think of. He withdrew a small silver key and pushed it into the slot. The door opened in almost slow motion revealing the saddest sight Jourdain Badeau had ever laid eyes on.

There was the love of his life tightly bound, with white straps, to a bed. The bandages that were wrapped around her wrists were stained with blood and her face was livid. Her lips were of a purple tint (quite the contrast of her usual pink lips). She was clad in a hospital gown of creamy white. The ward had already taken care of ridding her vision of any hair by cutting it to a jagged spatial extent. The vision of her, in a whole, was depressing and tore the heart from Jourdain's chest as it flushed excitement through D'Arque's.

"As you can see she is in quite a heinous state," D'Arque turned toward Jourdain after walking into the room farther leaving Jourdain in the arch. "Is there anything that you can think of that could have lead to this catastrophe?"

"She uh—" Jourdain began walking in toward his wife unable to believe the sight that lay before him. As he spoke images came into his head. Things he hadn't noticed that he saw before. Now that it came back to him he did remember his wife swallowing medications after her visit from the hospital. "She was swallowing medication."

"Hmm, What kind of _medication_?" Asked D'Arque, his finger tips coming together. His tone was knowing, as if he knew this information already. Jourdain didn't take this attitude lightly. His eyes narrowed and he glared at D'Arque with suspicion.

"I'm not sure— She intended it to be a secret I suppose. Why not you tell me what kind of medicine she were swallowing," Jourdain said raising his chin in ritchousness.

"I'm not sure what you are implying monsieur but I advise you it would be wise to stop now."

"I'm saying you know why she did this evil deed, you know what medication she was on. So, tell me!" Jourdain yelled coming very close to the mad man at hand. D'Arque merely laughed and walked toward Mireio until he was right at her bed.

"It was poison she was taking," He said frigidly as if it were a conversation about the weather. "This was intentional," D'Arque said turning to face Jourdain who looked hurt. It was apparent that Jourdain had, in fact, accused D'Arque out of anger. Seeing that his assumption was true hit him hard.

"Poison? How? Why?"

"My son, you see, needs a marriage. Although a fair years younger he fancies your daughter; your Frederique. This was intended to bring our two families together. What say you?"

"My daughter will never marry that abomination!"

"Ah, but not so fast. You see your wife is not dead yet but is in dire need of real medicine. I could let her die. . . Or you can promise our children together and I will revive her within the week."

"How did you cause her to slit her wrists?" Jourdain asked after a time filled of awkward heavy silence.

"That factor was quite simple. When your wife came into the hospital, where I go often, for her check up I pulled her physician aside and _persuaded_ him to do my bidding of prescribing her the poison disguised as sleeping solution. Timing the affects perfectly, I watched your family and realized you and your daughter ventured out somewhere every week at the same time, leaving your wife alone. I forced an entry and paralyzed her with a nerve fume on a cloth by covering her mouth with it. The poison, which had been doing its toll on her for the past couple weeks, made the effects of the gas quick and effortless. She fell. I took her back to Maison Des Lunes and slit her wrists myself. Then you and your daughter came into the picture," D'Arque said loving the expression on Jourdain's face. "And if you tell this to anyone I will come to your house in the dark of some black night with a pointed reckoning at my side. You and your daughter will be at my mercy."

"Name your terms," Jourdain said tears welling in his eyes.

"You know my terms Jourdain. Our children shall marry and you will tell this information to no one. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jourdain said turning away from the room. "I'll take me daughter home now. I will bring her when she turns the age of 16. Good bye Monsieur D'Arque."

The now older Frederique slid off the bed and stood in front of her husband. He looked at her nearly all naked form with hunger and desire. However he merely took her chin and brought her face to his for a short kiss. He stood up and walked past Frederique to his shirt, he pulled it over his arms and snapped his fingers. Frederique, a little embarrassed, approached her husband and began buttoning up his shirt. He stared down at her thoughtfully as her hands moved skillfully, as she had done this many times before. When finished she rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I've got work to do," D'Arque said simply as he briskly walked past his wife to the door and out he went. He passed many room and went through many halls before seeing a face that he saw worth speaking to, it was Gaston.

"Gaston," D'Arque said his eyebrow arching as he out stretched a hand for shaking. "To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?"

"Its Belle. Leandre, the man is not crazy!" Gaston said through clenched teeth.

"Her father?"

"Yes! Belle brought the beast to me and I saw him with my own very eyes! The man was telling the truth!" Gaston raved.

"No," D'Arque said shocked. He turned on his heels and made to room AXC, which was the room Frederique's mother was in and the one that Maurice was occupying now. D'Arque drew the small silver key and unlocked the door bursting it open. Maurice was still strapped to the bed and still asleep. D'Arque went to the cabinet in the room and withdrew a small vile. He snapped it open and held it under Maurice's nose. The man almost awoke instantly.

"The beast!" Declared Gaston. "It is truly real!"

"Yes!" Maurice exclaimed raising his head from his pillow. "That's what I've been trying to tell you all along!"

"Then the only way you're going to save your daughter's and your own life is to convince Belle to marry me," Gaston said the plan coming to him easily.

"You?"

"Or she dies," Gaston said smiling evilly. His grin was almost inhuman.

"I will convince her," Maurice said defeated. Gaston stood upright and exited the room while D'Arque remained behind.

"You're still my patient for the time being," D'Arque said evilly taking a mouth piece from seemingly nowhere and pressed it to Maurice's face. Maurice struggled to not breath it in but D'Arque pressed his fingers in Maurice's neck causing him to go wilted and fall into another intoxicated sleep.

D'Arque walked out of the room and met Gaston in the hall way.

"Would you really kill her?" He asked Gaston.

"Yes," Gaston said simply. "She is either bound to me or no one at all!" D'Arque grinned manically as the two began to walk. The footsteps echoed loudly in the vacant tunnel.

"How do we keep the beast away. If any other sees the monster we'll have to let the old man go." D'Arque said trying to fill in the missing pieces.

"I've already taken care of the monster. It appears that Belle is the glue to all our persuasion. I threatened to murder Belle if he ever returned."

"He loves her then?"

"I believe that to be so."

"Well, I'm sure Belle will be in here at any moment to try and break her father free. I shall await her arrival with anticipation and make sure her and Maurice get the proper time to discuss certain affairs."

"Good day," Gaston said smiling hopefully as he exited.

"Good day, Monsieur," D'Arque said watching Gaston's retreating back.

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**A/N: Please REVIEW! It urges me to write quicker if you review!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

Sorry this took so long to get up. I had sever writer's block. This is the last chapter and just so you guys know, I don't believe in happy endings.

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Belle pushed herself up from the ground where she wept with much force. Her limbs were aching and her heart was lead. She had to see her father! The distraught girl trudged through the snow, her dress wet and heavy. The way to Maison Des Lunes was long and dark, especially with the sun sinking behind the hills. When she arrived at the structure she simply walked in. It was so quiet that she could hear the droplets from her dress rupture on floor. 

"Hello?" Belle called walking forward clasping her dress with nerves. "Hello?" She called again. She looked around until she saw D'Arque standing right in front of her. She jumped back in surprise and pressed her hand to her heart. "You frightened me Monsieur." She breathed a small smile on her lips from slight embarrassment.

"My apologies, m'dear," he said with an eery tint. "How may I help you?" he asked as if he wasn't expecting her arrival.

"My father, I wish to see him," she said her voice very official.

"I believe you know where his room is," D'Arque said holding out a key. He was, of course, referring to her first entry.

"Thank you," she said as she took the key. Her heels made echoing noises as she walked by D'Arque into the hall way. As she walked Monsieur kept a weary eye on her.

Belle let out a sigh of release when she left his eye view. She covered her face with her hands and let out a dry sob. This place, this terrible place, frightened her to no extent. A place that vile should not be permitted to stand. She recovered her senses and headed for room ACX. Belle walked with haste until a hand came out and grabbed her arm. She let out such a shriek that it could have drove birds from the church down the lane. Unfortunately a scream was not a license to come to anyone's rescue in that place.

"Hush," A voice said pulling Belle closer into the darkness of an unlit corridor. "My name is Frederique and I mean you no harm but you must stay quiet." Belle nodded. "You must leave this place. You are subject to a vile plot in which it ends to no way in your favor. Gaston and my husband—"

"Your husband?" Belle asked not knowing who that was.

"Please just listen. They secretly plan to engage you to Gaston. They seem determined to succeed and are going to the lengths to kill you for it. Your life is at stake Belle. You—must–leave!" She whispered urgently. There was a door closing in the distance and Frederique looked in its direction as if expecting an attack. Her eyes were shining with the tears of fear. "You must listen to me, Belle. They have already corrupted your father and he means to follow through in their plan without the intention of telling you. You are not safe, you have no one, you are alone."

"Why are you saying this?" Belle asked insulted that this girl would say her father was in on it and would not tell her! More so go through with it.

"I say this because it is true!" Another door closed. "Please, you must believe me. Why would I lie? I have to go!" She said turning to go into the darkness.

"Wait!" Belle whispered. "Come back." But it was too late. Belle clasped the key to her father's door in her palm and stood there in silence. Belle heaved a shaking breath and made to leave. When she exited the building the snow seemed even more chilled than ever before. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked back to her home.

How could her father do this to her? After what she had done for him! He would— the nerve. Belle crossed the bridge and stopped in the middle of it. She looked down into the ice speckled surface. If she jumped, could she fly? Belle stepped on the side of the bridge and looked down over. The tears were falling down her face as she slipped her leg over the side and then the other. She leaned over the side and could see herself in the water. She was pale with saddness and confusion. Like Frederique said, in anyway she would lose. In any way Gaston would come out victorious. Not if she jumped though. Belle smiled in morbid delight as her fingers twitched with the begging for her to let go. She yielded to her hands and let herself fall. She closed her eyes awaiting the icy blow. But it never came. Belle opened her eyes she was in the arms of the beast on the other side of the bridge. When Belle realized what she was about to do she balled into the fur of the one she loved.

"Beast," Belle sobbed clutching his fur. "He— he—" But that was all she could get out. "I can't do this," She cried.

"I know Belle, I know." The Beast cooed stroking her hair with one claw. "I'm here."

"Why did you come back?" Belle asked remembering the threat Gaston had given him. The threat that he would kill Belle.

"I never left," The Beast said hugging her close. "I followed you all the way here. It's a good thing I did too," he said this with disappointment.

"I'm sorry," Belle said wiping her eye with one hand. "I can't see any other way."

"We'll figure a way Belle."

"Maybe we should go to the police," Belle suggested.

"What can the police do? They admire Gaston just as much as the rest of the town."

"Maybe I can just come with you to your castle."

"That is a fabulous idea," The Beast said helping her up. The two of them got to the castle without delay.

**-Two months later-**

" Where did she get to anyway?" Gaston asked furiously to D'Arque.

"How am I to know? I barely ever leave the asylum."

"It has been two months and there has been no sign of her! The police have no word of her! There is nothing! She's just disappeared!"

"People just don't disappear," D'Arque said quietly. There was silence in which only the cracking of the fire could be heard.

"No they don't," Gaston said rubbing his chin.

"What?" D'Arque said knowing the look of thought more than anything.

"That beast! She has to be with him! Why did I not see that before?"

"When blinded by inquiry many things go unnoticed," D'Arque said standing up.

"We have to find the beast. He will die this time. I'll show no mercy!"

"Gaston, perhaps—"

"No! I'm leaving right now. You make sure her father is secure. I'll be back with the blood of the beast on my conscience!"

Gaston left the building in a fire-like anger. He was absolutely in an outrage! He was blindly walking into a supposed doom. No one infiltrated the Beast's lair and lived to tell the tale. Little was Gaston aware of this. Since he was coming for Belle the Beast would break him. Gaston rampaged into the castle and withdrew his knife.

"BELLE!" Gaston called into the distance of the castle. "Belle I know you're here!"

Belle looked up from her book to the sound of Gaston's angry voice.

"Beast," she whispered. "He's here."

"Excellent, " the creature said heaving himself up. "Go now!"

Belle nodded with a victorious smile and ushered out the back way of the castle. She didn't like that passage much but a way out was a way out. She brushed away a spider web from the torch that she would take for the passage was underground and there was seldom light down there. Belle took the torch in her left hand and held her dress up with the right and began her musty journey to the outside of the castle. Although she had her dress in her hand part of it still dragged on the ground and it was steadily picking up mud and other unpleasant substances.

When light at the end of the tunnel appeared Belle's heart skipped a beat and her throat was full. She threw herself into the open with such anticipation she almost received whiplash. She threw the torch into the snow causing it to go out with a hiss. From a far view it seemed the snow was smoking with Belle in front of it, the smoke behind her blowing in an extreme angle. Belle started for the town and got there at dark.

As discretely as she could she slipped through the shadows of the town, going behind buildings. And through allies. She skulked like a villain all the way to The Maison Des Lunes. Belle grasped the key to her father's door which she had put on a chain around her neck. She entered through a door in which physicians and such people with those sorts of occupations would enter. She went unnoticed. Belle walked through the asylum with the intention to not make a sound. She could not but help herself to stay her journey when she heard voices.

"I know you were the one who warned that vile beauty," she heard D'Arque spit with venom.

"No, it wasn't me," said a voice that was hushed and scared. Belle recognized it as Frederique's, God bless her soul.

"Don't lie to me, woman!" D'Arque yelled rendering a sharp slap.

"I'm not!" Said the hysteric voice of Frederique. Her voice was wavered and moist. It was obvious she was crying.

"Give me that doll!" D'Arque said. Belle peered around the corner and saw D'Arque throw a small rag doll with yellow hair into the fire.

"NO!" Frederique screeched going to the very front of the fire. "Marion," she said looking at the floor. "That was the last connection I had with my family you vile, you monstrous!" She said standing and beating at his chest. D'Arque first looked surprised but that turned into a look of anger. He grabbed her wrists and threw her down on the ground. The two were yelling at each other at the same time and nothing could be comprehended.

Belle figured that she had invaded their privacy quite enough and continued on her way. Besides, their heated discussion would keep D'Arque's attention while she set her father free. Belle crept through the corridors until she saw the forsaken room, ACX. She hurriedly unlocked the room and let herself in. It was horrible. Maurice was deathly thin and his already grey tinted hair was messed with more grey and some white. There was barely anymore brown on his head. He was huddled in the corner with no shirt and tattered pants. His shoes were gone and he had only one sock. Those things had their turn to be noticed however. What Belle saw first wasn't the whiskers on his face, the dirt caked all over his skin, or the cuts carved into his skin. The thing that popped out were his eyes. They were empty with solitude. What ever glint they had when she saw him last was gone. It was almost as if he was dead. And in a way, he was.

"Papa?" Belle said closing the door quietly behind her. Maurice didn't stir. "Papa, speak to me," she said walking over to her father. He remained motionless and silent. As if Belle hadn't spoken a word. Belle held back a whimper as she cautiously approached him. Up close Maurice smelled of sweat and dried blood. Bell stopped breathing through her nose when she got close but still put her hand on his back. At her touch he flinched away and covered his greasy head with his hands and began crying while mumbling incoherent sentences. The only things she caught were: "No, not again," and " I'll be good this time."

Belle watched in horror as her father went into quiet hysterics. What had been done to him? Belle collapsed into a sitting position as her father's face screwed up in discomfort and he began twitching and convulsing violently.

"Papa," Belle whispered urgently. She was in a state of shock and couldn't force her voice above a whisper. "Papa what is it!" She asked fear in her voice. Maurice seemed to calm slightly at the sound of Belle's voice but went on convulsing. "Papa, shhh, its ok, I'm here," Belle said wrapping her arms around his twisting form. At the loving touch Maurice's twisting ceased and reduced to a slight vibration. "Its okay." Belle cooed.

"Belle?" Maurice said in a barely audible voice.

"Yes Papa, I'm here. Its going to be okay," Belle said hugging him while tears ran down her cheeks.

"Belle,"Maurice said as he closed his eyes in extreme happiness. Her touch was warm to him and the first love he had felt in over three months. If he had been there another hour without a loving touch he would have perished there and would never had come back to the light.

"Let's get you out of here," Belle said sniffing back her sinuses. Belle leaned her father on her shoulders and carried him out of his square prison.

"Belle, how are we going to go undetected?" Maurice moaned. It hurt him to talk and move.

"Shh, leave it to me, Papa," Belle said planting a kiss on his head. Belle dragged him down the hall with extreme circumspection. When it was time to pass the room in which D'Arque and Frederique were arguing it was quiet. Belle's heart began to beat violently as she peered around the threshold to see Frederique lying on the ground motionless. D'Arque was no where in sight. Belle was grasped by fear as she helped Maurice into the room to get to Frederique. The young woman was sprawled out her eyes wide with fear but with the glaze of death. She was dead. Belle knelt down beside her, praying to keep the tears at bay. She saw a shattered glass next to the girl and then noticed her wrists covered with spilt blood. Belle closed Frederique's eyes and let her own tears fall. She had escaped. She was at peace.

"Mother?" She heard a small fragile voice say. Belle whipped her head in the direction of the doorway and saw a young man standing there. He resembled D'Arque but held a more subtle nature. "Mother?" he said again as he walked into the room. He knelt by the corps and was in fearful shock. His breath was coming quick and loud and his eyes were glossed over with tears. "Don't leave me," he whispered looking into her face.

Belle looked around not sure what to do. She stood up and went over to her father. It was almost unbearable to look at. He was on all fours looking at the dead face of his mother fighting to not cry.

"What happened to you?" He asked no one touching her bloody hand. "Don't leave me," he said again resting his head on her bossom. Tears were falling down his face as he clutched her dress in internal agony. Belle helped her father up and made to exit the room. "Where are you going?" The boy asked looking up at Belle.

"I am going to take my father home— I am sorry for your loss," and at that she turned to leave.

"Take me with you," he said standing up. He wiped his nose and eyes and looked firm. "Please."

"I'm not sure that—"

"Please! Don't leave me here alone. Not with him," He said tears falling down his face again. Belle couldn't deny him. He was such a sight to see.

"Come," Belle said pulling Maurice out of the room. The three of them got to the entrance hall in a matter of minutes and quickly exited. The snow was cold and the sky was black. The lights of the town down the lane shone like stars of fate guiding Belle back to safety. They made it to her house in silence and undetected. Once inside Belle locked the door and placed Maurice in his bed. She heated some water and got a cloth and began mopping his dirty face. After a minute or two she looked over at the boy who was looking deep into the fire with such sadness that Belle felt a pang in her heart.

"What is your name?" She asked him. He looked over to her and his cheeks were wet.

"Eloi D'Arque," He said quietly.

"What a nice name," Belle said trying to clear the sadness in the air. It was to no prevail. After a moment or two of silence Eloi spoke.

"I loved my mother," he said. "I can't believe she's gone— I can't believe she took her own life— I don't blame her," he said with a sorrowful chuckle. "I'm amazed she lasted this long. She would always teach me against my father's word. Yet, she would tell me to obey him. Mother would tell me that my knowing better was what would get me into heaven," he swallowed hard and clasped his hands behind his back as he fought to keep the tears at bay. Belle got up and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be alright," she said as she rubbed her thumb over his shoulder. Eloi looked into Belle's face and began crying harder. He collapsed to the floor and sobbed with his hands over his face. Belle wrapped her arms around him and they cried. "You're safe now." she said running her hand through his hair.

After some time she had to go and see the Beast. She got her horse and rode all the way to the castle nonstop. When Belle arrived it was heavy with silence and she was weary to enter. Once she opened the large door she was in shock. Everything was overturned and out of order. Belle looked around with her mouth half open until she spotted Lumiere.

"Lumiere, The beast did he—" But she was cut off by Lumiere shaking his head. He pointed one enflamed hand in the direction of the west wing. Belle didn't need to be told anything else. She raced up the stairs and in the direction of the west wing. She burst into the room and saw the beast laying on the ground with a puddle of blood around him. "NO!" she yelled as she collapsed on the floor with her arms around him. She cried into his fur and begged for him to still be alive. It was no use, he was gone. After eveything she had done, everything she worked for, she still lost. It was all lost.

"Good evening Belle," came the voice of Gaston. "Are you ready to go home my little wife?"

Belle let two large orbs of tears run down her face as she stood.

"Yes, husband— We shall go home."

- End

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**A/N**

Review Por Favor.


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